


The Idea of Us

by thelast_thingido



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/F, see how well that works out for them, they try not to catch feeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelast_thingido/pseuds/thelast_thingido
Summary: 'Zoey was dangerous, Joan realized not for the first time.  That danger was always at a distance though, causing little bouts of chaos that she would give a curious eye towards.  Now, it was close and it was worse than she thought.'
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Joan, Zoey Clarke/Joan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	The Idea of Us

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of non-linear thoughts on their relationship strung together in a linear story. This was requested by my wife royalarmyofoz, she wanted a fic where Zoey and Joan are 'terrible to each other' lol, which isn't exactly what this is, but it's smutty which is what I knew she wanted anyway. I wish I could have made it more filled out but I've been working on writing a book so I haven't been able to invest in one-shots like I used to.

* * *

  
  
  


Zoey sat on her hands when she was nervous. It was an old trick that helped her awkward fidgeting in seventh grade, and a habit she left behind her until stress with her job and her family brought out some old coping mechanisms.

“Are you sitting on your hands?”

Joan was scolding her for something, some softness in her leadership that she let the wrong person see, before stopping abruptly to ask her that. Her boss wasn’t always so harsh in her criticisms, but she seemed to also be under some unknown stress that wasn’t covered in a musical number, as they both sat in her office. Her thick-framed glasses took away a little accessibility in her eyes while she sat at her desk looking over to the other woman.

“I do it when I’m nervous.” The coder blurted out and Joan’s eyes fell onto her lap, making Zoey self-conscious.

“Am I making you nervous?” The older woman’s eyes went dark and Zoey felt a rush of heat to her cheeks when she noticed. When she got past the tone,  _ god _ the tone alone was enough to make the younger woman melt. Joan smirked at Zoey’s non-answer because it felt revealing non the less.

“Have you ever been to the fifth floor?” Joan finally asked, standing up from her desk abruptly, taking off her glasses as her managerial energy shifted into something that made Zoey’s fidgeting turn into squirming.

* * *

It looked like a great place to kill someone, Zoey thought as Joan found a section of drywall that was sturdy enough to pin the other woman to. The plastic sheeting hanging from the ceiling and abandoned workbenches weren’t exactly the most romantic, but Zoey didn’t want romance and had a distinct feeling that Joan felt the same. This was delightfully void of heart songs, and it was the most welcomed distraction that the younger woman had in months.

Joan’s lips crashed against Zoey’s, and this wasn’t exactly new for them, but at the same time they hadn’t exactly done  _ this _ . They had kissed a few times, but both were brushed off as almost accidents by both women. As if they had just had too many drinks and tripped and fell into each other’s mouths, the bar bathroom was the first time. Joan tasted like tequila but Zoey did too so she didn’t notice, but she did notice how it started with her lips open and tongue pushing into Zoey's mouth, so there was no preamble at innocence. They kissed like that, with the younger woman’s hips pushed into the sink counter’s edge until the bathroom door opened and a group of twenty-year-olds ushered in to take up the mirror space. Joan just laughed and ran her fingers along her bottom lip, trying quickly to fix her slightly smeared lipstick. 

The kissing felt different now, now that there was less chance of interruption, it felt deliberate. Opening her mouth with such intention, hands under her sweater with such confidence. It was making the younger woman lightheaded and she couldn’t breathe without breathing in Joan. Her mouth was wet against Zoey’s neck, and she was burning up inside once she felt fingers slide down under the waistband of the younger woman’s pants.

“Do we need, like um, rules?” Zoey practically gasped out, trying to yield something sensible in this.

“Why, do you think you’re going to win?” She smiled at the younger woman with teeth flashing as her fingers shifted and pushed aside the girl’s underwear, making Zoey moan lightly.

“Rule number one.”

Joan pushed two fingers inside the younger woman’s mouth, opening it with pressure on her tongue. 

“ _ Suck _ .”

That was all she said, which Zoey obliged until she was panting and shaking, making a mess of both of Joan’s hands.

* * *

Zoey didn’t want a relationship, and that was just fine for Joan. This was rebounding, this was  **her** turn to have a midlife crisis with a girl half her age. This was Joan taking what she wanted without overthinking or negotiating. She didn’t know why Zoey wanted this too, but she figured she wouldn’t like finding out.

The younger woman was texting her to come over, a quick ‘you up’ message that she thought Joan would appreciate, be it the irony of an apathetic millennial attitude that she always said she wanted. Right now the younger woman had enough distaste for real emotions to go around. 

Zoey opened the door to her apartment before Joan had a chance to knock, ushering her in quickly with a mumbled mention of ‘nosy neighbors’. The place was surprisingly neat and tastefully decorated, with a minimalist approach, Joan mused. It reminded her of her own house, regardless of the difference in salary brackets. A house but not a home, deceivingly organized for a chaotic life that never lived here. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising that she and Zoey had more in common than it seemed on the surface. Maybe they were exactly the right kind of alike, needing this for the same reasons. 

It wasn’t something they talked about, in fact the coder wasn’t doing much talking at all tonight, kissing her as soon as she walked into the door, and that was a quick segue to her head being between Joan’s legs. Well-manicured nails scrapped gently at her scalp, burying into red hair and marveling at the renewing efforts the action had.

This wind down from the day was much better than pushing herself on a treadmill for a few hours then polishing off a few too many stiff drinks. This was something Joan could get used to.

Not that she would ever admit it to Zoey, regardless of how quick she fell apart against the girl’s mouth. 

* * *

Zoey’s orgasms with Joan were always sloppy and dramatic, her body on fire and crying out when she was allowed. She was only allowed so much in the backseat of Joan’s black Mercedes as the car was idle in the parking garage of SPRQPOINT. It was early in the morning, and tinted windows did wonders, but Zoey still tried to hold back, whimpering into the shoulder of Joan’s suit when she felt another finger push inside her.

“Is this the only way I can get you to work on time?” Joan husked against her cheek with a smirk on her face.

Lithe hips started rocking faster against the other woman’s hand, Zoey’s skirt bunched up between their bodies. Both of their outfits were going to be more than wrinkled for the rest of the day. “You just need a little positive reinforcement?” Joan’s thumb rubs tight circles against her clit, causing the other woman to shake against skilled fingers. 

“Lunch today?”

Zoey barely registered the words as the buzzing dimmed in her eyes, still sprawled out in her back seat and glowing with sweat while her boss was checking flawless makeup in her compact. 

“I’m having lunch with Max.” She answered when she finally gained enough senses to answer. Straightening her clothes and smoothing down stray red hair.

“I thought he hated you now?”

  
“We’re working it out.”

She side-eyed Zoey at that, mouth opening to say something, but then she decided against it, snapping the compact shut and leaving the backseat which was Zoey’s cue to follow her.

“You don’t like Max, do you?” The younger woman asked once they were in the elevator. 

“I don’t like how he looks at you.” Zoey didn’t expect that response, even if it was tight-lipped with reigned in emotions.

“How?” She scrunched her face up, confused. Joan looked over at her then, with a terribly serious expression.

“How Charlie looked at me.” Joan’s hand raised to brush a few stray strands of red behind the other woman’s ear. “They love the  **idea** of us, Zoey.” She finished with a softened tone, trying to speak to her as one woman would to another, without their positions in life getting in the way. 

* * *

Zoey straddled Joan while they were in the older woman’s bed, expensive sheets crumpled and pushed off the mattress hours ago. It was mid-day, and neither one of them said how long they could spend the Saturday together, but it was nice to imagine no end to this day. A lunch that Joan had ordered a while ago was left half-eaten in the kitchen, and she was enjoying the feeling of the younger woman on top of her, naked and soft skin surrounding her.

“How do you look at me?” Zoey suddenly asked, remembering what the other woman had said to her in the elevator earlier in the week. Joan smiled slyly, but her eyes looked a little trapped, so Zoey could tell there was no truth behind the light expression.

“Like I know how it feels to be inside you.”

Zoey didn’t react to the other woman’s teasing.

“Do you think I’m real, or am I just an idea to you too?”

Joan’s face slowly grew serious when she realized that the girl was waiting for a response, her hands on her hips squeezing lightly for a moment, before dropping her arms down entirely.

“What do you want?” The older woman asked, which of course Zoey had no answer to, whether she gave the girl a moment or a month to answer. “You want some deep confessions of how much I think about you? How I can’t imagine my life without you in it? You want that Zoey?” The condescending tone couldn’t be helped, even if Joan wasn’t intending it. Zoey tried to shift away, but hands grabbed her wrists suddenly, Joan sitting up straighter so that she was eye to eye with the other woman. “If that’s what you want, you’ve got a line out the door, kid. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Joan always told herself that she wasn't worried about the boys hanging around Zoey, because girls like her were easy to fall into. Girls like her collected hearts like keychains, all the while claiming oblivion at all the confessions of love. She calls them  _ sweet  _ and  _ kind  _ and kisses them when she's soft, but she always hardens again, and that was when Joan came in. 

Zoey was hardening now, not liking Joan’s answer to her question. It was more stern than the older woman felt, more callous than she should be. There were rules to this though, of course there were rules, and Joan wasn’t going to lose. The younger woman shifted off of her lap, sitting on the edge of the bed while grabbing a few pieces of her clothes that were in arm’s reach.

Joan sighed lightly.

“Don’t leave mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She replied too quickly for it to be true.

“Just leaving?”

“I have a family thing to go to.” Zoey was standing now, finishing getting dressed. 

“Am I wrong?” Joan snapped, not doing that well controlling her tone. The younger woman just shot her a glare that had Joan rolling her eyes. Their first fight wasn’t as endearing as she thought it would be.

“When have  _ you  _ ever been wrong?” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost in the room, and her boss was just nodding while looking away as Zoey left her bedroom and ordered a car to pick her up.

* * *

“I kissed Simon.” Zoey groaned begrudgingly into the phone as she laid in a bed she had Simon in earlier that night. She stayed still, listening to the silent end of a phone call for a few moments.

“Why'd you go and do a thing like that?” Joan spoke with an incredibly even tone, perfectly controlled volumes and it was just perfect enough to sound unhinged to Zoey’s ears.

“I might have been mad.”

“Rule number two; don’t make rules that you can’t follow. You’re mad at your own game, Zoey.” Her tone was tightening as she talked, more and more, taught like a piano wire being tuned.

“You sound jealous.“ Zoey smirked, knowing she would regret that observation later.

“You sound unsatisfied.” Is all she gave as a response, sighing out some of her frustration.

“I like it when you're jealous.” Zoey continued honestly in a breathless tone that made Joan close her eyes against the sound, taking in a deep breath. Jealousy was quite a look on Joan, Zoey realized. It felt like dangerous territory to pull them into, but it was so enticing, her boss was so enticing that she just couldn’t stop. She was going and going, feeling as much as she could without feeling anything at all because that’s what this was about. Zoey refused to stand still long enough to figure out the real reason why she was doing all this. All she knew was that Joan always reacted, she always wanted her, even if she didn’t exactly know why Joan wanted  **this** , she figured she wouldn’t like finding out.

“You like it when I fuck you.” Came the older woman’s cold response. Zoey closed her eyes as well, running fingers over her stomach, feeling muscles twitch at the touch.

“So do it then.” The smirk in her tone was obvious.

“I already sent a car to pick you up.” The reply was quick and the phone call immediately disconnected afterward. 

* * *

She smelled like cologne when Joan buried her face into red hair, and that was fine. This wasn't serious and neither one of them wanted anything serious. They wanted to feel and not feel all at once, so this was fine. What Joan was feeling was perfectly  **fine** .

“What else did you do with Simon?” The older woman asked while she had Zoey moaning in her ear, her legs wrapped around the older woman’s hips.

“I like him. He's sweet.” She replied as her only answer, smirking as if she had all the power even as she was pinned under her boss, stripped of clothes and left wanting. Joan was the only one who was wanting though and Zoey wanted her to know it.

Joan gritted her teeth and thrust her hips into the other woman, the head of her strap on that was teasing before slid inside the younger woman with a smooth but firm motion. Zoey gasped because she didn’t have enough air in her lungs to cry out. The woman on top of her held the position for a moment, before pulling the cock out slowly and pushing it back in with a quick force.

“Is that what you like?” She had never heard Joan’s voice sound so deep, or so dark, and it made shudders of pleasure go through her at the sound of it.

Joan fucked her without warmth, fucked her like a man would, and afterward she had Zoey follow rule number one again, on her knees with eyes that never left the deep blue of the older woman’s. Zoey was dangerous, Joan realized not for the first time. That danger was always at a distance though, causing little bouts of chaos that she would give a curious eye towards. Now, it was close and it was worse than she thought. Zoey would let her do whatever she wanted to do to her, but it always ended with those eyes on her like she was the only thing worth looking at in the world. She didn’t realize how much hold that chaos had on her.

Joan could  **ruin** this girl, just to realize that the only thing she ruined was herself. Oh yeah, this was  **fine** . Fucking great, even.

* * *

“What if I liked the idea of you?” Joan looked up from her desk, looked at her over thick-rimmed glasses. Her expression was unreadable, but Zoey continued anyway. “What if I liked…” Her throat closed a little, her words faltering, which caused Joan to take her glasses off so that the other woman could fully see her scowl.

“We’re not having this conversation here.”

This was the only place that they didn’t end up fucking or fighting though, and the fighting was getting more frequent, the fucking getting more intense.

Zoey sat down in front of her boss’s desk, causing the older woman to sigh in irritation. 

“Zo, what are you-”

“I know I’m a mess, and I know that I’m in a bad place right now.”

Joan instantly softened at that, at such an open and honest tone that she wasn’t expecting to come from her at the moment. She didn’t want Zoey to feel guilt for her personal situation. That should go without saying.

“You never have to apologize to me, it doesn’t matter how much of a bad mood I’m in. Okay?” She told her with a stern but supportive tone, Joan remembering their last fight and how she was so quick to shut Zoey up with a rough kiss, with both hands on her face before storming out of the girl’s apartment, door slamming at her exit. They had been doing this for so many weeks, almost months, just ignoring that there was something that kept bringing them together, and it was stronger than what was pulling them apart.

“I like the idea of  **us** .” Zoey finally said.

There was silence after that. One waiting on the other, and the other waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joan realized that Zoey was right during their first time on the fifth floor. They should have had rules. Real rules that let them stay on their sides without crossing lines. Now everything was scribbles and chaos, and Joan hated how she couldn’t walk away from it. How she would never want to.

Joan sighed again, but it wasn’t from frustration.

“Dinner tonight?”

Zoey smiled, which made the other woman roll her eyes and waved her out of her office.


End file.
